The Whole Truth

It's strange how opinions can drastically differ: I hated the much-loved The Twilight Zone episode The Night Of The Meek, but this one, which seems to have mostly garnered negative comments, entertained me throughout, despite a ridiculous ending that even Rod Serling refers to as 'far-fetched, way-out, tilt-of-centre'. Sure, it's not all that thought provoking, but the basic premise is clever and it's funny, so much so that the basic premise would be 'borrowed' for the Jim Carrey movie Liar Liar.

Jack Carson plays fast-talking, wheeler-dealer used car salesman Harvey Hunnicut, who makes a living from being economical with the truth. However, business takes a nosedive when Harvey buys an A-model car from an old man, only to learn that the vehicle is haunted and, as its owner, he is doomed to tell nothing but the truth. This set up leads to plenty of amusing moments as the brash salesman loses potential customers, tells his wife about his secret poker nights with his pals, and admits to his employee Irv (Arte Johnson) that he has no intention of giving him a pay rise. The only way out for Harvey is to sell the car, but can he do so without being able to tell a few porkies?

It's easy to see why Hollywood would be keen to recycle such an ingenious idea - the premise is pure gold: Carson is a riot as he struggles to come to terms with life without lying, and making one potential buyer for the haunted car a politician is a stroke of genius. The ending, in which Hunnicut finally sells the car to none other than Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev, and then informs President Kennedy of the situation, is highly implausible, but hey, stranger things have happened in The Twilight Zone.

I think I was about 12-13 years old when I first saw the Jim Carry comedy "Liar Liar" on TV. Although nothing special whatsoever, I still thought the concept of a 'professional' liar being uncontrollably forced to tell the truth was refreshing and original. Now, 20 years and 2 full seasons of "The Twilight Zone" later, I learned that many, many plots of which I once thought they were refreshing and original are blatantly copied from episodes of this magnificent series created by Rod Serling. "Liar Liar", albeit maybe not intentionally, is nothing but an extended and slapstick version of "The Whole Truth"; a nifty and wit episode in season two. Smooth and eloquent used car salesman Hunnicutt buys an antique car from an old gentleman before he even allows the man to explain that the car is cursed. Starting from the deal, and until he sells it again, Hunnicutt is unable to lie and do his usual manipulating sales talks. In fact, he even truthfully informs them that his merchandise is worthless junk! "The Whole Truth" is again a more comical entry, but the story is ingenious, and Jack Carson is downright terrific as the slimy Hunnicutt.

Very light comedy about a used car salesman, Harvey Hunnicutt (Jack Carson) who buys a haunted car that makes the owner tell the truth. None of the trademark TZ inventiveness here, although the idea is played out nicely enough. The fact that Hunnicutt literally cant lie gets him in trouble with his wife, his employee, and loses him custom. There's a strange little role for Artie Johnson, despairing at his newly-honest boss having him write accurate signs for the cars on sale. A famous man from the era turns out to be a character in the narrative and the young may have to look up history to see who he was. As to who Jack Carson was, I thought he was great as the cop in the crazy old comedy movie 'Arsenic and Old Lace'. He's also remembered for being in 'Mildred Pierce' and many more films.

So on the whole this is a Zone too light to be enjoyed any other way than as light relief after a creepy episode. However, there is- well..a certain truth about it all.

There were some weak entries prior to The Whole Truth, but this is arguably the first complete flop. I realize some fans hate to admit that a few episodes-- especially before the final year-- were not just weak, but real duds. Nonetheless, some of them were, and this is one of them, while the only reason to bother with commenting at all is to publicly acknowledge the fact.

For whatever reason, this half-hour lacks style, wit, suspense, mood, depth, chills or any other of the many attributes that lifted the series to classic heights. What it does have is a pedestrian script and plodding direction which ask us to find humor in the fact that used-car salesmen and politicians tell lies. What a surprise-- perhaps there's also humor in shooting fish in a barrel. It also has one of the lamest endings of the 160-plus episodes, a politically correct reference bound to be lost on younger generations. What it does have is Jack Carson, one of Hollywood's most versatile performers, who mugs it up manfully, but can't redeem what is irredeemable. The premise-- forcing professional prevaricators to admit their lies-- may have sounded promising at the concept stage, but the results barely merit a 2 rating. However, Serling is in good company-- even Shakespeare had his share of flops. Fortunately for The Bard, his don't turn up on TV.

This tongue in cheek episode is best considered in the context of the time of its first airing; it was the very same day Jack Kennedy was inaugurated. Used car salesmen had already joined politicians as having a reputation as being less than truthful. America was embroiled in the cold war with the USSR. A story weaving all these points together is done best in the Twilight Zone.

Harvey Hunnicutt (Jack Carson) is the prototypical used car dealer / con man. He trades for a dilapidated old Ford Model A, only to discover he can no longer tell a lie.

This episode was one of 6 produced on videotape, with all it's jitters, excessive contrast, and limited sound quality. All the action appears on a used car lot at night, thus you won't mind the quality issues as much. This was one of Jack Carson's last great performances; he succumbed to cancer two years later. A young Arte Johnson (later of Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In) makes a brief appearance.

The finale demonstrates Serling's wishful thinking for a worried America, as it began the Camelot of the Kennedy era.

This episodes legacy? Look no further than Jim Carrey's LiarLiar.